The poem
THO’ 1 women’s minds, like winter winds, May shift, and turn, an’ a’ that, The noblest breast adores them maist— A consequence I draw that.
Chorus For a’ that, an’ a’ that, And twice as meikle’s a’ that; The bonie lass that I loe best She’ll be my ain for a’ that.
Great love I bear to a’ the fair, Their humble slave, an’ a’ that; But lordly will, I hold it still A mortal sin to thraw that. For a’ that, &c.
But there is ane aboon the lave, Has wit, and sense, an’ a’ that; A bonie lass, I like her best, And wha a crime dare ca’ that? For a’ that, &c.
In rapture sweet this hour we meet, Wi’ mutual love an’ a’ that, But for how lang the flie may stang, Let inclination law that. For a’ that, &c.
Their tricks an’ craft hae put me daft. They’ve taen me in, an’ a’ that; But clear your decks, and here’s—“The Sex!” I like the jads for a’ that. For a’ that, &c.
Note 1. A later version of “I am a bard of no regard” in “The Jolly Beggars.”